What's hidden inside
by Batduck
Summary: Does Sherlock really not know whether what he says is deemed socially acceptable or not? John is experiencing doubts concerning Sherlock's innocence and decides to confront him. What will he find out? Is Sherlock's past the answer? Short one-shot.


**What's hidden inside**

This is my first attempt at a Sherlock (BBC) fanfic. I never dared to try before, mostly because I didn't think I would be able to capture the personalities of the characters. But here we go! I hope you like it, even if it's just a random conversation.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

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><p>Of course he cares, I know he does. He just makes it so hard sometimes. Like so often before it all started with a remark from him. The problem was not the remark in itself, the problem was the context, or the timing. I could never really get a grasp on why he did it; sometimes I was sure it was because he didn't know better, but the next I could swear that I saw a little grin drawing at the corners of his lips. The worst part was that I never knew. What if he did it just to annoy me? The difference this time was that I refused to believe his innocent eyes and questioning tone.<p>

"No. I won't fall for that again, you know perfectly well that it was a bad thing to say."

He saw the slight narrowing of the eyes, the slight straightening of the shoulders.

"Don't blame me, I didn't know." He said as he shrugged his shoulders and turned to go. But no. I wasn't going to leave it at that, this time I wanted to get to the bottom of his charade.

"Don't just walk away. Can you please answer honestly this time?"

"Answer what John? You haven't posed a question." This time I was sure that I saw a small grin touching the edges of his lips.

"Don't act stupid, you know exactly what I mean. Why do you pretend not to know how to act and what to say in social situations when you clearly do?"

"Why would I bother to act stupid when that clearly isn't the case?" Sherlock looked at me with a gaze consisting of equally big parts questioning and resentment. Resentment for my stupidity. Again. I sighted and prepared myself for what I knew was going to be a tedious and one-sided conversation.

"Sherlock, can we please not do this?

"Do what, John?"

"You. Making all attempts at a normal conversation impossible."

"I don't know what you are talking about. I am not doing anything."

"Of course you aren't." I had to take a couple of calming breaths as to not start screaming at the man. I decided to try a different road.

"We have talked about this kind of situations before, don't you remember those times?"

"No, I don't deem that kind of knowledge important enough to memorize." He looked bored and I hurriedly continued before something else could capture his interest and render him unavailable for the next hours, or days. I drew in a deep breath and decided that the best way was to just spit it out.

"Look, what I want to ask is... I have a feeling that you are pretending not to know how to behave just to annoy people." A sharp laughter almost interrupted me of before I had finished the sentence.

"Now you are jumping to conclusions without proof. I thought you knew better than that by now." I pretended not to have heard him. He always tried to make me feel flawed and insecure when he wanted me to stop. So I probed on.

"Or is it that you wan't people to correct you sometimes?"

"That's ridiculous!" He's eyes flashed sharp at me. Apparently I had found something.

"Is it?" I challenged.

"Yes, of course it is." he said, yet again calm. "When I grew up I didn't get to experience the... social situations most people do. I'm sorry if it's hard for you to accept but I do admit that I don't always know what's deemed as "socially acceptable" in situations." I immediately felt bad at his words and at the wounded look in his eyes. Just the fact that I had made Sherlock admit that he was flawed in some aspect was a victory. But not the sort I had hoped for. To be reminded of a hard past was never fun, something I knew well.

"I'm sorry." I turned my head down. Dammit. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. How could I have been so ignorant, and so suspicious of my friend?

"It's okay John." He awkwardly placed a hand on my shoulder but then quickly withdrew it. Hi's withdrawn hand left me alone in a state of self-loathing and disbelief at my own insensitiveness. I looked up at him when he turned to go and my thoughts stopped, I could have sworn I saw a smug smile tug at his mouth as he turned away.


End file.
